


Electric Love

by JoshuaDunshua (mythomusicians)



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AI!Ryan, Fluff, M/M, Post-Split, Ryden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomusicians/pseuds/JoshuaDunshua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2015, Brendon's a little drunk, and he finds a file named "Ryan" in a folder named "Control" on a flash drive he's just realizing isn't actually his.<br/>So, naturally, he clicks on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

*2015*

Brendon stumbled into his studio, slightly drunk, a little high, whatever. That didn’t matter. What mattered, to him at least, was that he was alone for the night and he was bored and he wanted to play with some beats he’d been working on earlier in the day, when he was still sober. Not that they usually came out better when he wasn’t, but sometimes they did. He turned the monitor on and looked around his desk for the USB drive on which he kept his unfinished work. As his eyes glanced over the weed, he thought briefly about rolling another joint, but his vision settled on the USB and the thought was pushed to the back of his head. It was a little bit routine, at this point, plug in the USB, open the file, click on a tune, and see if he can make it work better.

So that’s what he did. He went to open the file, though, only to find it wasn’t there. He furrowed his brows as he looked over what _was_ on the USB drive, mostly tech jargon, it looked like, until his eyes found a folder labelled “control.” He decided to click on that, hoping to get an answer as to whose USB this was, because it definitely wasn’t his. There were some more tech-y folders in here, containing file types he couldn’t open on his computer, or at least didn’t know how. There was, however, an .exe file, labelled “Ryan.” He raised a quizzical brow at the file name. He’d known plenty of Ryans over the years, worked with more than a couple, but none too recently. None had yet been in his little studio.

He wondered silently to himself what the .exe would do, and maybe it was because he was a little drunk, or a little high, or both, that it didn’t occur to him that it could be a virus.

So he clicked on it.

Nothing happened for a minute, and he thought it was unfinished or something, but eventually, after he started looking for his real USB drive, a small window sprang up on his computer. His eyes flicked to the screen as the movement occurred, and he stared at the little chat box that had appeared.

 

 **Someone opened my file?** The white on black text stood there, almost accusatory. Brendon stared, unsure how to respond. He knew the file hadn’t been meant for him, it couldn’t have been. The first thing he wanted to do was close the window, but then he thought maybe he could find out who this belonged to, so he could give it back. So, he typed.

 

 _I did, who does this belong to?_ He waited for a reply.

 

**Me.**

 

Brendon furrowed his brow. How helpful.

 

_And who are you? I just want to give this back. I found it._

 

**My name is Ryan.**

 

 _No shit._ Brendon rolled his eyes. If this guy didn’t want his file opened or whatever, he probably shouldn’t have lost it or whatever-the-fuck happened to make it get in here.

 

**Fuck, sorry, my name is Ryan. I’m the program.**

 

Oh. _Oh._ Wait, did a computer program just swear at him? He stared at the screen for a minute or two, coming to terms with a semi-sentient computer program existing on his desktop. Before he typed a response, another message from Ryan popped up.

 

**Hello?**

 

_I’m still here. You’re a computer program?_

 

**Yes. Kind of. That is to say, I have a body, just not.. not quite all flesh and blood. Like yours would be, I presume.**

 

_Uh..._

 

What? Brendon stared, gawking almost, at the screen. Was this guy, no, thing, telling the truth? Wasn’t that kind of technology like, decades away?

 

**I’ve been around for a long time.**

**I have a life, and emotions.**

**You connected to me through the internet.**

**I’m sitting on my couch, playing with my dog.**

 

Brendon sat in silence, the USB he was looking for all but forgotten, wondering what to do about this situation. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he’d had a bad hit of something, if he was hallucinating, but he could tell he was only getting more and more sober, albeit slowly. After a few minutes of not responding, another message from Ryan flashed on the screen.

 

**Please be kind to me.**

 

This shook Brendon out of his haze, at least.

 

 _How could I not be?_ He asked, genuinely wondering how on earth he could harm a sentient computer program that had a fucking body of all things. He was pretty sure, at this point, that the files on the USB weren’t Ryan himself, but the means by which he could chat with him. There were too few for it to be, well, this.

 

**If.. If you’ve got the program I think you found..**

 

Pause

 

**You can command me to do things.**

 

Another pause.

 

**You have the master controls.**

 

Brendon was wide eyed at the screen. Master controls?

 

_Why would you tell me?_

 

**It’s better for me to tell you than to wait until you find out. Statistically speaking.**

 

Brendon shook his head. He doesn’t even know where this guy- assuming the program’s telling the truth- lives, and he has a fucking dog, he can’t just tell him to stop everything and follow orders. Well, Brendon supposed, he _could_ , but that went against his moral code.

 

_Look, Ryan, I need like, 20 more beers. What happens if I close out of this program?_

 

**Our line of communication shuts off until you open it again.**

 

_I’m gonna go get drunk. I’ll message you like, tomorrow or some shit. Alright?_

 

Why was he asking permission to message a computer program? Why did he want to?

 

**Be safe.**

 

_:-)_

 

Brendon hit the “X” at the top of the window and went to drink away the situation for the night. It was too weird. But he found himself wanting to learn more about the strange computer program that had a body and a life and a dog.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

*Two weeks later*

 

So his name was Ryan, he had a small puppy named Dorothy, though he often called her Dottie, he lived relatively near Brendon, only a few hour’s drive by their estimations, and they both liked making music. They were even practically the same age. Ryan told Brendon about being created, about how his body is more machine than anything, but that he still had nerves and had to eat and sleep and all the regular human shit. He explained to him what an Artificial Intelligence was, that he could learn and grow and had been his whole life, "just like a real boy." Brendon still hadn’t told him his name, still cautious of this AI’s (he didn't really like being called a computer program. Because he was so much more than that, he'd said.) motives, but Ryan had remained fully understanding of that. So he just went by “B.” In the same vein, Ryan had admitted to owning several social media accounts that he didn’t want to share with Brendon. He said he’d much rather meet in person, and that it wouldn’t be fair for Brendon to see Ryan but not vice versa. Brendon had agreed.

If Ryan weren’t an AI, Brendon might say he was falling in love.

But Ryan _was_ an AI, so Brendon didn’t.

 

 _Does anyone else know you’re not, like, human?_   Brendon asked bluntly, sitting on his couch with the USB plugged into his laptop. He'd spent the majority of his free time in this position during the last two weeks. Talking to Ryan was exhilarating, Brendon was always learning something new about the guy.

 

**No. Just you, these days.**

 

_Don’t you have a girlfriend?_

 

**We’re on again, off again. I think we might be permanently off. It doesn’t bother me like I think it should.**

 

_Still, if you were steady, wouldn’t you want her to know?_

 

**I wouldn’t tell a girlfriend that. Just like I wouldn’t tell a girlfriend that I’m bi. Humans don’t usually get it, B. They want you to be their idea of a person, and the less you fit that, the more likely they are to leave. I just tell them I can’t have children.**

 

Brendon sighed.

 

_I feel that. About the bi part. And sorry about your ex._

 

**It’s fine. I don’t think I want her anymore anyway. She’s been a fucking thorn in my side lately. Always finding something wrong with me to break up over, and it’s always something new.**

 

Pause.

 

**I think I like someone else, anyway.**

 

_She cute?_

 

Brendon felt a slight burning in his chest. Jealousy? Fuck, that doesn’t make sense. Why would he be jealous that his weird computer friend likes someone?

 

**I think he is. I like his personality. That’s what’s important to me.**

 

_Me too. Personality is everything._

  
Brendon felt the heat rise from his chest to his face.

 

_You should tell him._

 

There was a long pause. A painfully long pause. As Brendon waited for Ryan to respond.

 

**...Is.. Is that a command, B?**

 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck. He'd said he wouldn't do that.

 

_Fuck, no, Ryan. Just a suggestion._

 

Brendon paused, hesitated at his keyboard.

 

**I don’t think I have the courage to unless you were to command me.**

 

_Do.. do you want me to command you? Would that hurt? I don’t know how the fuck this master control thing works. I mean, would you be able to finish what you’re doing? I know you told me you talk to me in your head. Which is still weird as fuck, since I have to sit at this goddamn keyboard. So like, what if I commanded you to do that and you were in the middle taking a piss or something?_

 

**B, I’m talking to him right now.**

 

Oh, fuck.

 

 **It wouldn’t hurt,** Ryan added.  **I'd just be compelled to do it.**

 

_Then, yeah. Uh._

 

_Tell him. Tell him however you want to, but tell him._

 

Brendon sat at his computer, unsure if that’s how it worked.

 

**B,**

 

Pause

 

**I want to meet you.**

 

**I want to see what you look like, and learn your name, and hear your voice, and talk to you for hours. You’re the only person I’ve ever met that knows I’m not human, and somehow I ended up with probably the one person who might not care.**

 

 _I want to meet you, too,_ he echoed Ryan’s sentiments. His stomach felt like it might explode, his fingers vibrated with unsure energy, and really, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was acting on impulse.

 

_What are you doing? Like, right now? Tomorrow?_

 

**Nothing.**

 

Brendon took a deep breath.

 

_Consider this a command, Ryan._

 

**...**

 

_Come over here, come to my house. As soon as you can._

 

_Please._

 

He sent his address, acknowledged that he was being really really stupid, and tried to relax.

 

**I’ll be there in 3 hours.**

 

Fuck. Fuuuuck. Now he had a guest coming over. A guest he’s never even met, a guest whose last name he doesn’t know. A guest he'd only been talking to for a few weeks. A guest who’s not human. A guest he was finding he very much wanted to impress. He tried to clean his place up a bit, moving his empty beer bottles. It wasn’t usually this messy, but he’d been neglecting his cleaning to talk to Ryan on his laptop in the past 14 days. And it showed.

After cleaning his house and doing the dishes, he took a shower, trying to make it last as long as possible. Trying to pass the time. Stepping out of the shower, he checked the time. He still had around an hour to kill. He styled his hair and trimmed his beard before going to his closet, looking for something to wear. He deemed his usual t-shirt-and-jeans not nice enough for the occasion and scanned the clothes hanging up. A suit would be far too formal, he thought, and he smirked slightly when his tour clothes caught his eye. A sparkly suit, now that would be something. Or, what would Ryan think if he wore his very old outfits from his Fever days? Sure the guy didn’t know he was in Panic!, but he thought it could be really funny. He wasn’t even sure if they would fit, but he had pretty much settled on never wearing them again anyway. He kept them despite that, though he couldn’t quite voice the reason why. They were irreplaceable, he guessed. Important. Memories of a time he’d never really get back.

He settled on a simple blue plaid collared shirt over a v-neck, and before he knew it, he heard a car pull up his driveway.

He suddenly found it very hard to breathe, his heart rising well up into his throat. He did his best to swallow it down as he watched the car door open, peeking through the curtains at the window. At first he saw a gorgeous head of hair, and the back of a beautiful blazer as Ryan reached into the car, presumably to get his dog, whom he must’ve brought along for the short notice ride. But as soon as his face came into view, Brendon thought he might throw up, and he froze in place, suddenly more scared than excited.

It was Ryan.

Ryan Ross.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan's life had been going pretty smoothly since his split with Panic!, if not for the constant break ups with his current girlfriend. Sure, he was biologically more machine than human, but at this point in his life he felt that mentally, he was the opposite. He had been an experiment, the only one of his kind, engineered to be able to grow, physically, and programmed to be able to grow mentally. By the time he was 13, he'd exceeded their expectations, and they deemed him truly living. When that happened, he'd been given the opportunity to "live a normal human life," as they had put it. His favorite scientist had told him they felt like they were holding a 13 year old boy captive, and they couldn't deal with that, morally. And so live he did, finding joy in music and art, placed with a family in Nevada who loved him and knew nothing of his unconventional heritage, and all but forgetting that he wasn't quite as human as everyone seemed to think. By the time he had split with Panic!, the last of the three scientists that had worked on him had passed away, and as Ryan found out later, had burned and destroyed all records of him being anything but human.

Ryan had assumed he'd destroyed the master control files as well.

Ryan had assumed wrong.

They never used them, but they were a fail safe, just in case their robot boy went rogue and tried to kill everyone. It sounded stupid to them all in retrospect, as the boy behaved almost exactly like a human child ought to, if not for his minor heightened abilities, but they hadn't had any clue what to expect at the beginning.

And now, somehow, some guy _practically his age_ had found them. He felt it the moment the USB had been plugged in, felt that niggling back in his partially-inorganic brain as his servos whirred and his thoughts connected to the Internet, to the program.

He hadn't felt that sensation in well over a decade.

And this guy, this, this "B"..

For once, Ryan didn't feel like his mechanical bits made him a freak.

He really, _really_ wanted to meet him.

 

_Consider this a command, Ryan._

 

Ryan had taken a deep breath as he waited. Whatever B told him to do, he'd do it. He wouldn't be able not to, but he wouldn't even try to resist.

 

_Come over here, come to my house. As soon as you can._

_Please._

As soon as he heard it, thought it, however this worked, yes, he had to. He wanted that more than anything. B sent him his address, some place in LA, and Ryan immediately found out how far of a drive it would be.

 

**I'll be there in 3 hours.**

 

He sent back to him as quickly as he could and started to get ready, moving about his home as fast as he could. He had showered already, so he needed only to style his hair and change his clothes. He was _not_ meeting B wearing a Beatles t-shirt he'd slept in the night before. He threw on a neat white v-neck and a dark burgundy blazer and contemplated what to do with Dottie. It was practically still morning, pretty much everyone he knew was away for the weekend or at work.

"I'll just bring you with me, girl." He said, scooping her up in his arms. She was a tiny baby basset hound, only a couple months old, and he was absolutely enamored with her. "Hope B won't mind. He said he has a couple dogs. Maybe you'll make friends!" He kissed her head, and she licked his cheek. He grinned, but his thoughts were on the past. He'd been turned away by so many people. His band, his friends, ex girlfriends, potential boyfriends. He was so worried about what B would think of him. He walked out to his car and looked himself over in the window reflection one last time. Hopefully B thought his girlish features were attractive. He knew no matter what, B would be attractive to him. He had to be, after all this. He set Dottie down on the passenger seat, turned the ignition, and drove.

 

It only took him 2 hours and 48 minutes to get to B's. He may have sped a little. He pulled up to the address that still presented itself so neatly in the back of his mind. _He lives in a really nice community..._ He thought to himself. This was one of the best places in LA, some of the more expensive properties. What did B do to make so much money? Granted, Ryan had quite a bit of money, himself. On top of the work he did now, he still got royalties from his work with Panic!, and he had a nice little home just for himself and Dottie, with a big backyard and a pool. He didn't need much more than that. He backed into the driveway and took a long, deep breath. This was it. This was _it_. He'd only met B a few weeks ago, rather unconventionally and against his will, but his "heart" raced, and he felt like the contents of his stomach might empty. He opened the door, Dottie jumping the small gap between seats as he stood, tail wagging excitedly. He reached down and lifted her in his arms before turning and heading for the door.

Nervous might be an understatement.

He knocked and bit his lip, _what if he's not home?_

But the door swung open almost immediately, and the man before him looked at him with something you could _almost_ describe as terror. He was handsome, _very_ handsome. Goddamn beautiful, even, his hair in a very modern coiffure, and he was probably a little shorter than Ryan, though it was hard to tell with a step still between the two. It took a few moments too long for it to dawn on him as he looked over his features.

Oh.

_Oh._

_Brendon._

_"B" was Brendon._

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Ryan?" Brendon barely managed to breathe out.

"B... Brendon."

"I... It's you? You're the..?" He trailed off. Ryan nodded, otherwise frozen, but Dottie struggled slightly in his arms, trying very hard to reach Brendon's face. "Hey, hey, girl." Brendon snapped out of it, taking Dottie from Ryan's arms and letting her lick his face. He stepped back from the door frame. "Come in, Ry. Please."

"Uh, y-yeah. Sorry." He moved into Brendon's home, Brendon shutting the door and sighing to himself. _Damn_ Ryan had gotten beautiful since he'd last seen him. He fit his features better, and his ass, just, _fuck_.

"You think so?" Ryan blushed a deep shade of red.

"Fuck, I said that out loud?" Brendon felt his face heat. He set Dottie down, his own dogs, Penny and Bogart, still in his bedroom. They could introduce them later. They had to talk.

"Brendon," Ryan started.

"Let's sit down." Brendon motioned to the couches in the living room. Ryan nodded. They did sit, Ryan in the armchair and Brendon on his couch, opening his laptop.

"This is you?" Brendon asked, pointing to the screen. He saw a message pop up on the open program.

 

**It's me.**

 

"Fuck, Ryan." Brendon breathed. Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking down.

"I'm sorry, Brendon. I- I should just," Ryan stood, looking for Dottie. "I should go."

"No," Brendon reached and grabbed his hand. "Stay."

"But-"

"Ryan," he gave his hand a squeeze. "I asked you to come. No, I made you come. Don't make me make you stay."

"Last time I was with you you sent me away." he said, his voice very small, almost far away. 

Brendon took a deep breath. Ryan was right. Brendon had pretty much planned on never seeing Ryan again, if he could help it. But the Ryan he'd talked to over the past half month, _this_ Ryan was different. Ryan had grown. _Brendon_ had grown. They'd changed so much. He swallowed his pride. "I know." He pulled Ryan down to the couch with him. "I know, fuck, I'm _sorry_. But-" he sighed and put his arm around Ryan, expecting him to recoil, but was surprised to find him leaning slightly into his touch. "But I'm still B."

 

 

When Brendon brought his arm around him, Ryan felt a warmth spread through his body, and God, it felt so strange and so good..

"But I'm still B."

Ryan closed his eyes, trying to forget the person he knew as Brendon and focusing on the B he'd spent countless hours of the past two weeks talking to, confiding in. "Type to me."

"What?"

Ryan opened his eyes back up and looked Brendon in the eye. "B, please. Just, it'll be easier for me. To figure things out. Please."

Brendon's brow creased. "Do you have to respond there? Can you talk back?"

"I... Yeah. I'll talk. Just.." Ryan sighed. "I've spent the last two weeks having amazing conversations with you, but, but seeing that it's _you_... It's messing with me."

Brendon nodded, slowly at first, and grabbed the laptop.

 

_This is better?_

 

Ryan sighed and closed his eyes. "Much better."

 

_Fuck, Ryan, I... I can't believe it's you. Of all the Ryans that could be half robot._

 

Ryan chuckled slightly. "Crazy, right? And of all the "B"s in LA, I get you." He sighed and allowed himself to lean against Brendon's warmth, albeit hesitantly. Brendon, however, responded warmly to the movement, pulling him closer with an arm around his waist, typing with one hand. Ryan felt his breath hitch.

 

_I'm glad you came._

 

"I don't quite understand why, B. And... don't take it the wrong way, but I didn't have much of a choice."

 

_Can I tell you to do something?_

 

Ryan hesitated. "I, uh. I mean-"  he heard Brendon typing.

 

_Look at me, Ry._

 

He did as commanded, looking at Brendon, who was looking intently back at him. He swallowed hard, unsure of himself, unsure of Brendon.

"I’m glad you came, because I like you, Ryan. I like _this_ you. Half machine, half human, whatever."

"Brendon,-"

Brendon hushed him. "Don't say anything yet." Ryan watched as he started typing. "Hope you'll forgive me for this."

 

_Be honest. That's all I ask._

 

 _Dammit,_ Ryan thought. Of course he'd forgive Brendon. He always forgave Brendon. "Honest.." He sighed. "I like you, B. Hell, I might even be starting to love you. I- I don't know. I'm confused. We- we have a history, yeah? You hurt me, I hurt you. It's in the past, I've moved on, but-" he took a deep breath. "It's still _you_." He paused, taking in Brendon's expression. He couldn't place it. But _God_ , was he beautiful. "But so is B. You're B, _my_ B. The only person who knows my secret, and you _like_ it." He exhaled. "And I like _you_."

 

 

Brendon listened intently, examining Ryan's face, drinking in its beauty. He kept him close with his arm held gently around his waist. He'd lost Ryan once already, thanks to his own bullheadedness and idiocy. He was pretty intent on not losing him again. "You're goddamn right I like it, Ry."

 

 

They spent the rest of that day working on repairing their actual relationship. They introduced their dogs to each other, and Bogart seemed to really like Dorothy, while Penny generally kept her distance.

"I don't think she doesn't like Dottie," Brendon said casually. "I think she just doesn't have that weird puppy energy."

Ryan smiled and laughed, and oh God, Ryan's laugh.

They talked all afternoon, and over a dinner of delivered Chinese takeout. Ryan admitted to having purchased all of Panic!'s albums, and knowing all of the words. He'd always liked Brendon's voice, he said. Even more, now that they were talking again. Brendon, meanwhile, admitted quite the opposite. He had made sure not to get interested in anything Ryan was doing. “It was just.. easier to let go of you completely,” he’d said, his expression forlorn and distant, but not at all closed off. He was determined to be the opposite of everything he had been to Ryan before he thought he’d lost him forever.

 

It was nine o'clock before either of them bothered to check the time.

"Do you have to go home...?" Brendon asked quietly, the pair seated at the kitchen table.

“Actually, um.. It’s a bit late, isn’t it? Would it be too much to spend the night?” Ryan bit his lip, and Brendon could tell he was nervous to ask.

“Please, uh, please do. I don’t really like being alone, anyway,” he smirked a little. “S’why I have two dogs.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback is so so appreciated, you guys. Thank you. <3


	5. Chapter 5

At around 11:30, Ryan excused himself to bed, leaving Brendon alone with alcohol. It had been a few weeks since he really had any significant amount, but the stress of the day left him seeking out the substance, and heading to his backyard to smoke. It was a lot to take in. His new friend (he wouldn’t immediately let himself think _new love_ , but it sat in the back of his mind) was his _old guitarist_ for fuck’s sake. His _former best friend._  He thought he’d like to just deal with a hangover the next day than try to sleep with everything on his mind.

When he came back in, it was 2 in the morning, and he was drunk, and maybe a little high. He sat in front of his laptop, staring at the screen, at the keyboard, and he knew Ryan was sleeping, but right now he didn’t care. He was lonely, and Ryan was nearby.

 

_Come here, Ry._

 

He waited, listening, hearing the guest room bed creak and feet shuffling to open the door. Ryan emerged, rubbing at his eyes, in a cute pair of pajama bottoms and nothing else. They had dogs on them. Brendon smiled a little.

“What is it, Brendon?” He asked tiredly, almost but not quite annoyed.

Brendon just typed some more.

 

_Get over here and kiss me._

 

Ryan’s brow wrinkled as he found himself sitting down next to Brendon. “Right now? Tonight?”

 

_Right now._

He sighed slightly as Brendon turned to face him. Before he could get a word in, Ryan felt himself lean in and kiss the younger man, whose hands wrapped around his torso in an effort to bring them closer. It felt comfortable, safe, even, and Ryan decided to ignore his frustration at being woken by force. He could live with that. He had Brendon right now. As their lips separated, Ryan spoke, quietly, pressing his forehead against Brendon’s brow.

“Bren, you’re drunk.”

“....so?” Brendon smiled into the AI’s cheek.

“Don’t do anything we’re going to regret...” he said, resting his head into the crook of Brendon’s neck, deciding against telling him he knew his BAC was 0.053. Not enough to forget the night, but enough to potentially let it ruin the next day.

“Drunk ‘r not, Ry, I’d never regret you.” Brendon nuzzled him, lifting him onto his lap so that the older boy was straddling him.

Ryan wanted to believe him, but his trust had really been broken one too many times. Still, he enjoyed this. Brendon was comfortable. Brendon knew his secret. Brendon was B.

“‘Sides,” Brendon began, whispering into Ryan’s ear. “I just wanted t’kiss you. Wanted to all damn day.” He used a hand to turn Ryan’s face to meet his, pressing their lips together softly.

Ryan had been worried that a sober Brendon would kiss too fiercely, and even more worried a drunk Brendon would be worse. He was all too pleased to find out how wrong he’d been. Brendon was light, gentle, nothing but lips on lips, and even when drunk, was physically asking permission again and again, all down his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders, returning back up the same way.. Ryan could never say no to this, but he knew if he did, Brendon would stop. He allowed his thoughts to turn down their volume, every gentle kiss and every brush of Brendon’s hands on his bare skin turning silently into 1s and 0s, pure and raw and absolutely electric. Its own form of artwork. Romance on a level only Ryan could really comprehend, and never properly use English to explain. It was quiet, it was delicate, and neither of them pushed for more. It was enough, just as it was.

 

Eventually, they settled on the couch together, tired, comfortable, happy. Brendon fell asleep quickly, strong arms wrapped around Ryan’s decidedly scrawnier frame, but Ryan’s thoughts fell back into comprehensible human language as they laid themselves down. He thought perhaps, his heart might blow a gasket. He felt safe in Brendon’s arms, he liked it there. He felt more like himself with Brendon now than he ever had since he was 13.  He smiled to himself, closing his eyes, and left a small note on the laptop for when Brendon woke up.

**  
01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110  **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, you guys. Really. Feedback, as always, is mega appreciated.


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